


Defining Safety

by psycho_phreak



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, i am doing my best but please, i think, just amanda having some thoughts i guess, look if i have to write all of the fluff for this fandom we will not have good fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 17:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9394919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psycho_phreak/pseuds/psycho_phreak
Summary: Amanda has an attack and the Rowdy 3 help with the aftermath





	

The wrench was in her hand when it happened. The hand began to droop, the flesh oozing off the bone like honey. She felt the familiar lurch in her stomach, the sickening feeling of unreality.

Not now.

Not like this.

The Rowdy 3 were in melee, rioting against some neo-nazis that had given them cheek outside a gig. It would be a quick fight. The 3 had this well in hand.

Amanda staggered back to the van. The pain hit her now and she recognised this particular hallucination. Acid. It would eat away at her hand, burning flesh and muscle and bone before moving up her arm.

On one level she knew the danger wasn’t real, but that level was quickly being wiped out by the pain and fear rising in her gut. She slid down the side of the van, clutched at her melting hand.

Great. Now both her hands had acid on them. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered as the pain rolled over her in waves. It didn’t take long for the sound of boots to approach her. She forced her eyes open just enough to check that it really was the Rowdy 3.

They huddled around her in formation, the blue energy flowing out from her hands to theirs. The pain subsided and when she glanced at her hands again, they were solid and whole.

Even after the last of the hallucinate faded, she was shaky and breathless. When she didn’t stand back up, Martin crouched down next to her.

“You alright drummer girl?” he murmured.

She shrugged. This was a bad hallucination – not as bad as drowning but almost. Last time she had had it, her hands had melted down to the bone and the acid was nearly up to her elbows by the time Todd arrived.

There was a hand in her hair. She looked up to see Gripps smile at her. She gave him a small smile back.

Cross stood back, unsure of the situation. Vogel was already gone, wandering across the carpark to pick up whatever they, or the nazis, had dropped. He brought back an armful of weapons and deposited them in the van, before checking himself and taking out the wrench. He brought it to Amanda and carefully placed it by her feet.

Suddenly she felt smothered.

“Let’s go,” she said and pushed herself off the ground. She kept one steadying hand on the van and pulled herself in.

The Rowdy 3 followed her hesitantly. They moved to sit towards the back of the van, watching her as she minutely moved away from them.

Did they know what she was feeling?

Almost definitely.

Amanda jumped as Martin slammed the driver door behind him. The van growled off into the night.

 

They stopped outside of town, within arm’s reach of the suburbs but far enough away from the lights of the city to see the stars. The Rowdy 3 had a few places like this, patches of wasteland where they could park the van and set something on fire.

Cross, Gripps, and Vogel jumped out of the van and pulled the big mattress down from the top of it. This task, while simple, required all three of them to squabble over it for at least ten minutes first before taking it down in the most inefficient and destructive way.

Amanda went to follow them. 

“Wait,” Martin said. He half turned in his seat and fixed Amanda with a piercing look. “Are you okay?” 

She sighed. “I’m fine.” 

Martin kept looking at her over his horn-rimmed glasses. She stared back resolutely. 

The silence stretched on, tempered by the Rowdy boys’ voices outside the van. Amanda thought about them. Thought about how different they treated her compared to her old friends, who acted like she was made of glass. Different compared to Todd, whose smothering affection she could now see as guilt ridden. Different compared to doctors, who condescended and sighed and threw pills at her.

She had the sudden realisation that if Martin was doing this, he must be really worried.

“I’ll be fine,” she said eventually. “Some hallucinations are just worse than others.”

Martin looked her for another moment before nodding and getting out of the van. Amanda followed him, narrowly avoiding the mattress crashing down to the ground. 

“Sorry,” Vogel called out. 

She gave him a thumbs up and pulled the mattress so that it was horizontal on the ground. Then she flopped down on it, feeling the old springs give way easily.   
There was a scorched patch of earth where the boys might make a fire. But the night was warm, and they were tired enough to not destroy something before settling down. Gripps began his ponderous process of laying down next to Amanda. Cross collapsed down onto her other side. After a moment, Vogel came running from somewhere and flung himself onto the trio. A mild scuffle broke out which ended with Vogel lying across all three of them, his head on Gripps’ knees, his knees on Cross’ chest, and his chest pressed against Amanda’s legs. It was the perfect compromise, in that everybody was uncomfortable but not uncomfortable enough to bother moving again.

Martin watched the scuffling from his position leaning against the side of the van. Amanda could drowsily trace the path his glowing cigarette made as he lifted it from his side to his mouth and back again. He took one last drag and dropped the butt, crushing it as he walked over to the mattress. Somehow, he managed to wedge himself so that he ended up under Gripps’, Amanda’s, and Cross’ heads while avoiding Vogel’s boots, which swung lazily off the edge of the mattress. 

This arrangement was weird and never truly comfortable but it worked. Amanda hadn’t spent a night worrying about drowning in her sleep or counting down the hours until her next pill since it began. 

She had gotten into more fights, had done more dangerous things, and knew more dangerous people than she had ever known in her life.  
But for the first time in years, she felt safe.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone please teach me to write good or yell with me about Dirk Gently. Please.


End file.
